


Wants, Needs, and Everything in Between

by ratchet_intellectual



Category: Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom!Sam, M/M, Sexuality Crisis, Shower Sex, Top!T'Challa, ass eating, porn with some feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 00:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7144292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratchet_intellectual/pseuds/ratchet_intellectual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam isn't gay. Okay, he is kinda bisexual but he is more preoccupied with T'Challa and his dick than whatever his sexuality is. T'Challa knows he has to one day settle down but damn...Sam's ass is driving him crazy. But it's more than just the sex...right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wants, Needs, and Everything in Between

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to admit there is some silly lines in this just for fun. I wanted to create the porn I wanted to see in this world.

He wasn’t gay. He wasn’t. He loved women: their softness, their curves, and their fragrant perfumes. He loved everything about women and never found himself wanting a man in their place.

Well..there was that time in third grade when he cried because he couldn’t give De’Marcus Johnson a heart shaped valentine. And sure, there was that one time in the ninth grade when he couldn’t stop staring at Jerome Avery in the locker room any time he took off his shirt. But just because he had a few small crushes on some boys during his formative years doesn’t mean he is gay. It’s not like he has ever wanted to have sex with another guy.

Okay so that one drunk time when he was twenty two at a bar doesn’t really count. He wasn’t in his right mind. But...he will relent that the second and third round the next morning after sobering up was a bit gay. And the time in Rio when he met that Brazilian male porn star but who could blame him? Rafael Santos was the hottest South American porn star out at the time, who would pass up a chance at that? And there was that time….

Okay he might be tiny bit gay. Or rather bisexual because he still loved women but some men were just attractive. And T’Challa was unbelievably attractive. No one with eyes could deny it, the man was an ebony Adonis. His eyes were darken with wisdom and pierced through Sam’s heart. He had soft, full lips that opened to a mouth that was the perfect place for Sam’s tongue to explore. He imagined T’Challa’s strong arms around him and how happy the king would be to have someone who could take his raw power because Sam was no mere human that would break under pressure.

Jesus Christ.

So maybe he was a bisexual, he would never say it out loud. It didn't feel right. His sexuality felt deviant in nature as if there was something wrong with him personally being anything but 100% straight.

But T'Challa was sexy and most definitely had a nice dick. The panther suit left nothing to the imagination and Sam couldn't help but to stare out his muscled legs, toned ass, and trim waist. And he could see how the king’s crotch was shaped. Not that he would ever look at something like that and wonder how it would feel on his tongue under the protective material of the suit. He wanted to know how the weight head would sit in his mouth and experience the salty tag of his precum.

Sam really really wanted to suck T'Challa's dick.

* * *

 

It was inevitable for T'Challa to take a wife. It simply had to happen. The royal bloodline needed to be preserved and it was his job as the reigning king to provide an heir that would eventually take his place.

This didn't mean T'Challa wasn't allowed to take whoever he wanted to bed. Wakanda was not bound to traditional western thoughts on sexuality. They had their own gender ideas and what it meant to be in love with someone. In Wakanda, there has never been a struggle for equality among sexualities; under the eyes of the Panther God, all bonds were sacred. Non-straight couples were treated like any other in Wakanda and faced no prejudice like in America.

So it was okay that he found Sam very handsome. Very, very handsome. The man had playful eyes which were set by a nice row of curled eyelashes. His strong shoulders and arms were something that the king wanted to massage all day long. He had the kind of big hands that could grab T'Challa with confidence. And Sam’s ass was out of this world.

Really. It was the best ass he had ever seen. It was well shaped and perky, each cheek plump and full. It had the perfect bottom that looked like the perfect place for the king to grab onto. It was toned like the rest of the man but it had an undeniable weight to it. His skin tight suit hugs the curve of his backside and teased T'Challa endlessly. He wanted to bite at it and lick it because that ass looked delicious. To grab it was his destiny - no his divine right - because it was made for his hands.

Damnit…. He felt like a depraved, sex crazed teenager. What would his people think of him if they knew about his preoccupation with Sam’s...body?

He met the man at the Avenger’s mansion after he started his plan to infiltrate and watch the team. Sam was Captain America’s “sidekick” but T’Challa saw his worth as his own man. They started off as simply partners on the battlefield, rarely talking to each other one on one. As Black superheroes, T’Challa felt it was important to keep a good relationship with him. Then they started to naturally drift to each other. Soon after Sam and T’Challa would go out on their own, having small adventures in Harlem or simply talking all night at the mansion. As things progressed, T’Challa found that he began to crave the Falcon’s presence.

As they started to spend more time with each other, T’Challa’s….attraction became more apparent to him. Usually he prided himself on the manners his mother instilled in him; being a part of a community where almost everyone wears skin tight, form fitting suits made being respectful important. He tried not to look at Sam’s ass or the v of the cuts of his abs but then he would stare at his mouth or his eyes. It got to a point where even looking at the man’s neck got him going(because that neck was perfectly curved and waiting for T’Challa’s teeth to dig in).

  
Because he is a man of principles, the king has been able to swallow his desires. Sam was a teammate, a friend. His mission as an Avenger was to protect Wakanda and her people. He needed to focus on his responsibilities as the Black Panther It would be unprofessional and unwise to take the other man to bed. No matter how good the American would look against his silky, royal sheets...

Panther God, please have mercy on him for succumbing to the weaknesses of the flesh  
  


* * *

 

The Avengers had gathered around in the common living room after an easy mission. The TV was a low hum in the background as the superheroes talked. After an hour someone changed the channel to an music videos started playing:Anaconda by Nicki Minaj.

“Who turned it to this?” Jan asked with a frown. All eyes went to Clint.

“Don't look at me but I do appreciate the view.” He answered eyeing the rap star as her ass went up, down, and all around.

“Never pegged you for an ass man Clint.” Tony said as he flopped onto the couch. “You seem more like a chest kinda guy.” The billionaire held up his hands to his chest and making a cupping shape with his hands.

“I appreciate the entire form.” Clint replied as he sat down next to Tony with a drink. “What about you Stark?” Tony thought for a moment before responding.

“Have to go with tits. Nothing is better than a good pair.”

“You guys are pigs.” Jan said definitively, Carol and Jessica Jones nodded in agreement.

“ How about you Luke?” Asked Tony. All eyes fell on the obviously married man. He looked between the crowd and then his wife.

“Umm...I am more of an inner worth kind of person. Her soul speaks louder than anything.” Jessica smirked and kissed her husband on the cheek.

“Good save babe. How about you ask the other not married guys? Steve? Sam?” The private detective, who was only at the mansion waiting for her husband, looked at the men in question.

“Can I go with what Luke said?” Steve asked. There was a resounding no. “Fine. I suppose that there are certain….merits to both. I guess I would rather see her go than come.”

“That is the polite way of saying he likes asses.” Tony translated, used to taking the Captain’s old fashion words into something discernible.

“Sam?” Clint looked at the Falcon who was busy pouring his own drink.

“Well you can go wrong with a big ass.” He said smirking. His caught the eyes of the Black Panther who was still in his uniform sans the mask. “How about you T'Challa, ass or tits?”

The room hushed to hear the man’s answer. T'Challa was always a wild card; at times he would play along with their games and other times he would simply give off the “I am a King” vibe to settle the matter.

The Black Panther looked at Sam and remember the perfect ass he possessed. He imagined grabbing, carcassing, and biting it. He wanted Sam bent over his knee, ass in the air, crying out in pleasure as he smacked each cheek.

Suddenly the Wakandan felt hot all over.

“As the Captain said, I wouldn't mind seeing her walk away.” Sometimes T'Challa surprised himself with how steady he could make his voice.

“The asses have it for the win!” Clint announced.

“You didn't even ask any women.” Carol said and the conversation devolved into controlled chaos. The song switched to a boy band and soon the topic was completely passed.

After a few hours with everyone drifting out to do their own thing, only T'Challa and Sam were left in the common room. Both were sitting on the couch. The king was hyper aware of the man next to him. With his advance sense of smell he was drowning in his pheromones and musky sweet skin. He was craving to lick him all over.

“You don't have to be in Wakanda any time soon?” Sam asked, trying to keep it casual.

“Shuri has everything under control. She is standing in as ruler until I get back.” T'Challa answered without breaking eye contact.

“So, are nice asses a part of Wakandan culture? What do you like about it? On women I mean” Sam asked. He wanted to hit himself over the head because of that last edition.

“We try not to enforce superficial beauty standards.”

“But?”

“But…” T'Challa continued staring at Sam’s lips. “But it's something that has been valued in our tribes. Thickness shows that she is able to bear strong children.”

“But for you?” T'Challa wondered if he just catch a spike of arousal after Sam said this.

“A body is a body. Traits like that are gender neutral to me. I can appreciate beauty on everyone.” The king said before turning to stare at the television. His body felt hot and he needed to relax. A mindless reality show was on now, with two women shouting at each other in a club.

“Is gay marriage legal in Wakanda?” T'Challa frowned.

“Yes but I am done speaking on behalf of my people. I'm just a man like any other.”

“Okay, T'Challa the man: if a body is a body would you marry a man or rather, could you love a man?” Sam was treading on a thin line. T'Challa was still in his black suit, the material painted onto his muscles. He kept telling himself not to look at his crotch but then he would see his abs. When he was able to stop looking at those he would notice the man’s strong pectorals and he would have to pull his eyes up from there and he would land on T'Challa's supple lips. From his lips he kept going up until he was eye to eye with him. Dark brown meeting a lighter brown.

“I could. Could you?” They couldn't look away from each other. The room felt like it was closing in on them.

“Yeah it wouldn't matter you know? It's not like I haven't slept with a guy before” Sam said before his clipped shut. He had never said something like that out loud.

“You have? How was it?”

“Sex is different but ends up feeling just as good…” Somehow they were even closer together than before. “But the kissing is different.” T'Challa was trembling internally but was stone on the outside.

Time moved as though it was stuck in molasses, slow and sweet. Both of them kept glancing from the other's lips back to their eyes.

“What's the difference?”

Sam wasn't gay. He just...he was reading the signs. The mood kept pulling them closer like magnets and before he knew it, they were only a tantalizing foot away from each other. He wasn't gay but this was T'Challa and he was art made living and it wouldn't hurt if he moved in the last six inches and let the king decide the rest.

“The facial hair.”

T'Challa knew this wasn't right. He had a duty to his people and couldn't be wasting the days away in lov- in lust with his teammate. No matter how good that teammate looked in the dimming light. And dear Panther God, Sam’s very pink tongue moved to swipe at his full lower lip. He felt his body move on its own accord, closing in the last six inches between them.

Neither could tell you who kissed who first but once their mouths met it was as if a spark was ignited. T'Challa licked into Sam's mouth, devouring him whole. He dragged his teeth down his neck, nipping and sucking marks into the warm brown skin.

Sam was panting heavily and climbed into the king’s lap. Their mouths met again in a hot clash. T'Challa was finally able to slide his hands down Sam's back and grab onto that glorious ass. It filled his hands perfectly. He kneaded and squeezed. Sam let out a low moan and grinded down into T'Challa's lap. The king was rock hard now a rubbed his hard on against the Falcon’s. The ass in his hands needed more attention so he massaged each cheek. The tight jeans made it hard for T'Challa to really feel it so he flicked his wrist, extracted his claws then tore the pants and underwear.

Both of them froze at the sudden brashness of it. T'Challa just slowly removed his hands from the amazing ass and held it up in an “I am unarmed” motion. Sam slowly moving away, completely astonished.

“Did you just…”

“I may or may not have gone a bit too far.” T'Challa admitted. He had never been so embarrassed because he usually never acted so impulsively. At least not since he was a teenager.

“You think?” Sam looked behind himself to see his very tattered pants hang off his now bare ass.

“I give you my deepest apologies-” T'Challa was already moving to get the American off him and to somehow salvage the moment but Sam was no light weight. He buckled down and pushed the king back in place.

“We need to take this upstairs because I can't be down here with pants like this.”

With little pause, T'Challa swept the Falcon into his arms.

“I've never been carried like this before.” Sam said before T'Challa could get back to licking past his lips and exploring the other man’s mouth. He walked with ease to the elevator. Once inside he slammed Sam into the the wall. Their tongues danced together. Sam licked the other man’s teeth and sucked his tongue. T'Challa took his hand from out under Sam's ass and placed it on the control pad. After a moment the elevator stalled before moving again.

“What did you do?” Sam said between pants.

“Hacked into the mansion’s security system and deactivated the cameras leading to your room. No one is going to disturb us.” They slipped out of the hallway, T'Challa holding together the tatters of Sam’s trousers with his big hands. Swear to the Panther God that ass felt amazing with little to obstruct from skin on skin contact.

T'Challa kicked open the door to something that was probably Sam’s room and threw the man on the bed. It was a bit ridiculous that Sam, who was about the same size as the Wakandan, was being manhandled like a rag doll but somehow it served to turn him on even more: feeling powerless to T'Challa's strength and succumbing to him. He no longer had to be strong, just safe in his arms.

The king climbed between of the Falcon’s legs. He ripped off the rest of his pants as he went up and pushed off his shirt. He took in the image painted below him. Sam’s chest was heaving, dark nipples hard in the crispness of the air. The light dusting of hair on his abs stood up, his treasure trail leading to a nicely shaped cock that stood at attention. Sam’s muscular arms were loose and relax as it rested near his head. He was the picture of ‘please do as you may’ and T'Challa never felt so hot.

“Is it okay?” T'Challa asked as he ran his hands up his thighs. “This is fast.”

“Don't quit on me now cat, you committed to this when you tore holes in my pants. Buckle down for the entire ride.” Sam wrapped his legs around the other’s back, pulling him close. T'Challa smirked.

“You're right. Let me follow through on my decision.”

He went back to kissing him slow and soft as if they had the whole night. Their hands explored each other. T'Challa was able to slip under Sam's back and grope at that wonderful ass. He lifted the man on the bottom up so he could rub his cloth dick on Sam's nude one. Sam cried out and the king moved to swallow the sweet sounds. Sam grabbed at T'Challa's suit, fruitlessly trying to remove it.

“How do you get this shit off?” Sam whines ready to feel his skin. T'Challa smirked again and peeled the black suit off of him. Sam was finally able to grab onto the dark brown skin and feel his skin pebble under his hands.

“Good lord.” Sam whispered, smiling up at the man. The other peeled off the rest of the suit. His cock sprang forth, hard and ready. “Commando? Guess you can't have pantines when in front of your people.”

T'Challa moved to silence the man. He grinded down so the head of his cock rubbed up the length of Sam's erection. They both grasped. In a firm hand, Sam grabbed both their dicks and started jerking up and down. Their precum made it easier but there still wasn't enough to ease the friction. The roughness gave the action an edge of pain that Sam enjoyed with relish. His other hand slipped up T'Challa's back before stopped and the cup of his head to pull him close

“There's lube in the draw on your right.” Sam whispered, rubbing his fingers in the Wakandan’s short wooly hair. T'Challa reached over to said draw and opened it with ease. He felt around until he felt something that his inner mind knew was what he needed. His teachers would have never thought he would use his shape mind and multi tasking capabilities for sex but he was glad to have the skill. He pulled out the lube and uncapped it. He went back in for condemns.

“Wait! Before you do, I have been dying to do something.” Sam said and pushed the king off him. He climbed on top before sliding down T'Challa's body. He kissed down his dark abs, licking up the sweat that collected on the muscled. T'Challa grabbed the back of Sam's head and wanted to urge him to his straining cock. His head was weeping cum, purpled and hard.

“I've been dreaming about this moment.” Sam whispered finally moving to lick at the throbbing head of the delicious dick in front of him. “Do you know how that stupid suit makes you look?” He suck the head into his mouth and enjoyed the taste of it. He moved down to lick a vein that ran from the base to mid cock. He suck on the underside then the base. T'Challa gripped the short, tight curls of Sam’s head to direct him to swallow it whole. Sam paid no mind to the king’s silent plead. He simply kept on lapping at the junction of his cock and balls before slipping one into his mouth. Soon both were in his mouth and T'Challa was crying out in a controlled moan. Sam dropped both of them out of his mouth with a wet sound then looked up at the Wakandan.

“Don't do that. I want to hear you.” Sam said in a hard tone. “I need it.”

T'Challa always had a problem with being vocal during sex. He felt that it was undignified. But when Sam looked up at him with his smoldering eyes, he let out one long moan. His voice was trembling but he cried out even louder once Sam finally took him in his mouth to the hilt.

“Dear Panther God…” T'Challa cried out as he gripped Sam’s hair tighter. The Falcon really went in them, swallowing him in and out. His tongue curled around his dick. He relaxed his throat and took T'Challa's even deeper. “Please.”

It was something to amazing with hearing the king of the most powerful nation on Earth beg for more. He came back up and sucked hard on the head. Sam watched as T'Challa moaned as he hummed around the man’s cock.

“Sam...Sam. Stop...stop!” T'Challa commanded. He pulled Sam up none too gently. He lead the American up to his mouth to kiss him deeply. “I want..”

“To fuck me?” Sam said with a cocky smile.

“Were you always so crude?”

T'Challa moved in to capture his lips again. He pushed Sam down on his back again and crawled on top. He kissed along the other man’s neck and bite down on his muscle. Sam cried out half in pain half in arousal.

“I need you to turn over.” T'Challa whispered into Sam's skin before sucking a bruising mark. Sam did as he was told. T'Challa laid backed and ran his hands up and down his back. It was ripped liked the rest of him and lead to the ass that he adored so much. It was out in the open, full and awaiting for abuse. He grabbed each cheek harshly, pulling it apart then letting it clap back together. He cupped the bottom of it and pushed it forward. He massaged it slowly and listened to Sam's sweet whimpers.

“You don't know how long I've been thinking about this.” T'Challa moved in to take a long suckle of each cheek. His finger grabbed the cheeks apart and pressed a his thumb on the tight entrance. It was T'Challa's turn to whimper at the heat of Sam's hole.

“Are you going to just play with it or fuck me?” Sam looked over his shoulder and toss back the lube that T'Challa effortlessly caught. He poured a good amount on his hands, oiling his fingers. Slowly he pushes a single finger in and Sam exhales just as slowly.

T'Challa works the other man open with one finger, relishing in the wet sounds it made as he went in and out. He poured more lube on where his fingers met his ass. It felt so good to have his finger in the hot, impossibly tight entrance. Sam pushed out his ass and huffed into the pillow. His legs spread further apart and pushed the finger in deeper.

“More.” Sam said in a greedy voice. The Black Panther has never seen the man so needy and open. He was a completely different but still the same somehow. He was still bold and courageous, demanding more from him. A second finger was added and T'Challa found the prostate. Sam moaned loudly, biting his lips. T'Challa started to kiss the expanse of back at his reach. He started to pump in and out, rubbing in his prostate in small circles. T'Challa couldn't help himself and inserted a third finger, twisting it in with more lube.

“You don't know what you are doing to me.” T'Challa murmured, forcing his fingers deeper. He bit Sam's ass cheek again and sucked another mark into it because anyone who might have the privilege to see this ass would see T'Challa's marks and see he was owned. Not that he was something to be had. Or something T'Challa even wanted. No, he pushed the possessive thoughts from his mind and focused on the pleasure he was causing.

Sam moaned louder as T'Challa pressed a bit harder at his prostate. He felt full but it wasn’t enough, his fingers were not reaching deep enough.

“Come on.” He pushed back harder. “It's been long enough.” T'Challa could hear that voice for the rest of his life.

“Okay. Do you have any prophylactics?” Sam snorted into the pillow.

“Same drawer as the lube.” T'Challa rolled his eyes. How was he suppose to know what Americans called them? He pulled out his fingers and reached into the drawer to grab a condom. He took one out of the box and removed the foil with his teeth. He rolled it on and poured more lube onto his erection. He was harder than he has ever remembered and was so ready to slide in. His put on more lube on the hole before lining up.

“Deep breath.” T'Challa whispered and pushed in. Sam moans at the penetration, legs spread wider still, ass pushed up. Inch by inch T'Challa entered Sam. In short aborted thrusts, he pushed in and out. He bottomed out after a few pushes. The king cried out louder than he meant to.

Sam was incredible tight and it was almost too much for him. He took a moment to exhale slowly. He rubbed Sam’s lower back to soothe him in some way.

“Has anyone ever tell you,” Sam gasped out. “That you have a very large penis.”

At that point T'Challa started to fuck him in earnest. Long, sure strokes that rocked the bed and slammed the headboard into the wall. Sam cried out and after a few minutes Sam gave up trying to get his legs under him. T'Challa grabbed his hips and went to town. Sped up and fucked him harder. After a few minutes he slowed down and went back to steady strokes. He pushed Sam into the mattress so he could focus on hard pumps that made the other man whine. Sam's cock dripped continuously on the sheets (which was a bit of a pain because he just washed them). He wanted release so bad it hurt and T'Challa was focused on hitting his prostate with every stroke.

“Please just let me…” He reached towards his aching cock but the Wakandan grabbed his hand, curling their fingers together. He nuzzled into the curve of Sam’s, peppering it with kisses.

“Last a bit longer kidege.” He moaned into his ear and it was the best sound Sam had heard in a minute. The Falcon sobbed into the pillow as T'Challa sped up again, fucking him with a single minded purpose of driving him insane with pleasure.

“Please...l can't. You have to give me something.” He felt the king smirk into his shoulder.

“So bossy kidege. Tell me what you want.” He whispered before sucking on Sam’s earlobe.

“I wan-nt to cum. Please let me.”

“As you wish.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, T'Challa moved to jerk Sam off. Once, twice, and he was cumming in splatters on the covers. This didn't phrase T'Challa, who kept pumping the spent cock as if nothing happened. Sam started sobbing again and he would deny to his grave if anyone ever said that he had tears in his eyes. T'Challa kept at it with his prostate, grinding into his ass. The king opened his mouth wide and bit Sam's shoulder hard enough to draw blood. The bit muffled his cry as he ride out his orgasm deep in Sam.

After a few ragged breaths, T'Challa pulled out. Sam was too worn out to even see what he was doing. He collapsed onto the bed as the king got off. When he returned, he pulled Sam close.

“Never pegged you as a cuddler.”

“Do you talk like this with all your partners or am I special?” T'Challa asked with no venom in his voice. Sam brought up his arms so he could wrap them around the other man's waist.

“I'm letting you be big spoon so count yourself lucky.”

The king hummed in acknowledged but was content on having the other man in his arms. It was probably around 10 pm, a bit early to go to bed but he felt sated in a way he hasn't for months. It was as though he had a great feast and was finally reclining back in peace. Unfortunately, while his mind was content his body wasn't.

“Again?” Sam asked, he already fell into a light sleep after they had settled together.

“It's fine. Don't let it bother you, I'll take a show-” T'Challa started to say but the other man was already sliding on top of him smiling wide.

“ I think this is the start of something beautiful your majesty.” He declared as he leaned down to kiss away any protests. “Look,” he grabbed T'Challa's hand and lead it around his back to his used hole. It was sloppy wet with lube and pulsing from the abuse T'Challa had delivered. “Still stretched and ready to go your highness.”

T'Challa could do nothing but press his fingers in. His cock came to full mast quicker than he thought possible, curving onto Sam’s plump ass. The man on top of him was working himself to hardness. His pinkish brown head looking particularly delicious as he twisted his hand around his cock in slow, tantalizing motions. The king grabbed the lube and worked with it behind Sam's back. He opened it up again and smear a generous amount on his hands. He brought one up front to grab Sam's dick and pump it. It jumped in his hands, hard and eager for a second round. The other hand went to finger his hole again in short, aborted thrusts. Sam was helpless to the assault. He didn't know if he should push back onto the fingers or forward into the tight fist.

“You're going to be the death of me.” Sam decided, his words choked by a deep moan. T'Challa just grinned and pressed his fingers deeper into his ass.

With a wet pop, T'Challa removed his fingers and gave Sam's dick a final pump before wiping his hands on the bed. He then when to lift Sam's entire body up till only his calves were on the bed. With one hand be held him up effortlessly by the ass and Sam was pretty impressed by the feat, he was no dainty damsel. The king lined up his cock to the Falcon’s awaiting hole and pushed in nice and slow. Both of them gasped as he entered for the second time. The new position came with gravity and it seemed to force T'Challa's cock deeper into the man. Sam had never felt so full and grinded down, watching the usually stoic Black Panther become undone.

“Let me return the favor from the last round.” Sam whisper before picking himself up and falling fast on his dick. T'Challa choked at the sight and feeling. Placing his hands firmly on T'Challa's chest, Sam busied himself with riding the king with abandon. He slammed down repeated, penetrating himself with that 100% authentic Wakandan dick. He made sure that his prostate was hit every now and again but he got off more on the sight of T'Challa in ecstasy. His eyes were rolled back, mouth agape, and the tendons in his neck straining. His moans roared through the air. T'Challa slide his hands up Sam's forearms to curl them around his jaw. He brought the man down into a hot, messy kiss. Their tongues and teeth met in a clash, not so much fighting each other but rather lost in the enthralls of passion together. T'Challa pulled him back for a second to whisper in his ear.

“Bite me.” Sam looked him in the eyes. “Hard.” T'Challa's fingernails raked down Sam's sides, four parallel claw marks running down his back. Sam did as he was told, grinding down onto the hard dick and biting the king’s clavicle. T'Challa groaned loudly and shooting into Sam. He realized that he wasn't wearing a condom but couldn't help but ride of the pleasure to the last drop.

Hearing the man groan was enough to do Sam in and once he got his hand on his own cock, he cum on T'Challa's chest. Sam leaned down to lap at the cum. T'Challa's softening cock was still inside him when Sam rested on his chest. Again T'Challa wrapped his arm around the man, their bodies fitting together surprisingly well for two muscular men.

“I can get used to this.” Sam said dreamily because it's been awhile since he has been thoroughly fucked like this.

“Agreed.” T'Challa started to run circles in Sam's back and leaving small kiss on his shoulder. Sam's neck and shoulders were covered in darkening bruises, hickies, and one big bite mark, the outline of T'Challa's sharp canines still visible.

“And you didn't pull out.” Sam stated in a matter fact tone. He felt T'Challa's dick twitched in him.

“I apologize.” The Wakandan replied but he was secretly happy because that possessive feeling bubbled up again and the thought of his cum leaking out of the Falcon’s ass got him going again.

“Again?” Sam said as he felt the cock in him swell. “You really are going to be the death of me.” He rolled off his partner. “I'm taking a shower because some people like to act like animals.” Sam got off the bed, his ass marked and bruised. If T'Challa looked at the right angle, he could see his cum dripping out of Sam. And just like that his lower half was hard and ready to go again.

“Can I come in?” T'Challa asked as he followed, feeling only a little bit silly about his hard cock bouncing as he went after the other man.

“What do you think?” Sam pulled the king under the shower head.

The hot water washed over them, making things slick in a different way. Now they were free to kiss slowly and take their time to explore the caverns of each other's mouths. T'Challa sucked Sam's bottom lip, kneading on it a bit before taking a sharp bite. For the third time that night he drew blood.

“I think,” Sam said as he lapped up his own bloody lip. “that someone has a kink.” The Wakandan ignored the man and instead licked back into his mouth. T'Challa's hands once again wandered down to grab the ass that he was most definitely in love with. He squeezed and kneaded the flesh. The water made rivers on their skin and collected in the knook of their bodies. Sam reached for the washcloth on the rack and grabbed the soap. He lathered the cloth up before washing the man in front of him.

  
It was a very intimate act. The steam created by the water brought them together. Their bodies were humming and connected in a way sex never could. T'Challa and Sam locked eyes just like they did when they were sitting on the couch. The king took his hand and caressed Sam's strong cheekbones with his thumb. He kissed the tip of his nose, his eyes then eyebrows, and ended at the corner of his mouth. Sam started to heat up at the attention because no one ever treated him like he was something precious.

T'Challa took the washcloth out of Sam's hand and started to gently scrub him down. The soap smelled like sandalwood and honey. The king watched as the bubbles pooled on his chest and slid down.

“Hold out your arm.” Sam did as he was told and T'Challa cleaned one arm then the other. He washed down his torso, his treasure trail, and even his dick got swiped clean but it wasn't like how it was in bed. He was gentle. “Turn around for me.” T'Challa said in a husky voice that sent a shock down his spine.

“Turn over, do this, do that. And I'm bossy?” But Sam did as he was told, placing his arms on the shower wall and relaxing. T'Challa ignored the comment in favor of washing his back. He was especially gentle on bite mark he left. The skin there was raw and tender. It compelled the Wakandan to move forward and lap at the wound. Maybe later he would tell Sam about how his saliva could act as a salve but it might ruin the mood. He got carried away with the bite mark in the same way he got carried away with the pants. He just wanted to push the man down and take with abandon;to act selfishly and have his fill. Something about Sam drove him crazy. The same crazy effect that Ororo had on him and that was something he didn't want to get into right now. Instead he decided to focus on washing the beautiful ass.

There were bruises and marks here too so T'Challa was just as careful. He palmed each cheek, soaping them up. Suds raced down Sam's curves and collected on his dimples. With a strong hand T'Challa separated the cheeks to reveal the tight opening he was in minutes ago. With the washcloth he scrubbed at it. Sam hissed under his breath, rolling onto his toes before falling back on the touch. With the cloth on his finger, T'Challa went in just a bit to try and get his thick seed out.

“Don't worry about it. It wouldn't be the first time someone came in me without a condom. I can handle it.” Sam wanted to sound reassuring but it unknowingly angered the Black Panther. Who else had done it? How many times? T'Challa moved to bite the meat of his unmarked shoulder. He licked a long stripe up his neck, savoring the taste of clean,lightly scented skin.

“Okay it might have been bad taste to talk about past lovers.” Sam said as he allowed his head to hang down.

“You think?” T'Challa muttered into his skin and pressed the cloth at his hole. T'Challa moved to kneel at Sam’s feet but when the other man tried to turn around, T'Challa held him in place with a firm hand.

He washed one leg then the other. He paid close attention to the softer inner thigh and the place where thigh met ass. T'Challa started to suckle on his ass again. Sam let out a sigh and started to shake. His cock twitched in interest but he doesn't think he could go for a third round so soon. T'Challa didn't seem to care. He held both cheeks again and spread them wide like before. With a huff on the sensitive skin, T'Challa went in to eat.

“Dear lord!” Sam cried out as he thought of the most powerful ruler in the world is currently eating his ass. It was a heady feeling and he thought it couldn't get any more surreal until T'Challa stopped taking kitten laps at his hole, started to suck at it, and dart his tongue in roughly. He tried to move away from the intense feeling but T'Challa was super human strong and Sam wasn't going anywhere if the king didn't want him to.

T'Challa was in an ethereal trance. He had never done something like this before but he followed his instincts and experimented. He went fast,slow, gentle, rough. He listened to Sam's wondrous pants and moans, chasing his pleasure with his tongue. He challenged himself to go deeper and find something that would satisfy him. The more he did it however, the more he craved. He finally understood what all these rap songs were saying. There was something to this “ass eating”.

“Kidege, hii ni nzuri.” He said in puffs before he went back in.

“My dude...I'm going- ah- to Google...translate that later.” Sam moaned then yelped when T'Challa moved to bite a cheek. Slowly T'Challa pulled away and kissed a trail up his back.

“Don't you dare kiss me.” Sam told him.

“Of course not.” T'Challa caught water in his mouth, gargled, then spit it out in the other side of the shower. Sam turned off the water and they stepped out together.

Sam grabbed towels and a spare toothbrush and handed them to T'Challa. Things weren't..awkward but it was weird. They were teammates, friends and now they were suspended in this relationship limbo where actual adult talk was needed to resolve the problem.

T'Challa had helped himself to toothpaste and was brushing his teeth. His towel was wrapped around his waist, the fluffy white a stark contrast against his dark skin. Sam dried off his hair and did the same with his towel and walked out to his bedroom. He looked at he stained, twisted sheets and his tattered clothes on the floor. In the back of his head he heard his mother's voice saying to clean up. The clothes were thrown in the hamper with the sheets. T'Challa walked out when he was folding his panther suit. Sam looked up slightly embarrassed.

“It's not what it looks like. My mom raised me with home training.” But T'Challa just gave that amazing smirk and unintentionally sauntered out in the room. He was up against Sam in a moment. He circled his arms around him to pull him closer. Sam put his arms around T'Challa's neck.

“You are surprisingly affectionate. Like a little ki-”

“Make a cat joke and I'll kill you.”

“You're no fun.” Sam said but was cut off by kiss. It wasn't slick and filthy but rather sweet. Sam pulled back a scant inch so he could talk. “I'm not good at pillow talk.”

“Neither am I.” The Wakanda countered,chasing his lips but Sam just went back farther.

“So what is this? Not to make it awkward but what? We doing this again? A friends with benefits kind of thing- friends with benefits means-”

“I know what it means.” T'Challa interrupted. “And I'm not to keen on it. I don't think I want anyone else seeing you like this.” His grip got a bit tighter.

“Okay so dating?”

“Dating.” T'Challa said definitively.

“I can do that. And it's a lot easier since we don't have to worry about the other getting kidnapped by a super villain. You can just kick his ass.” Sam said then kissed his new boyfriend. Which he would admit makes him gay in the slightest bit.

* * *

 

  
“T'Challa, new house rule: do not touch my security system. I don't know what you did but no more of it.” Tony stated as he glared at the Wakandan. He was at the stove cooking eggs. T'Challa was reading a digital dossier at the table, not really concerned with anything.

“It's a good time to revamp your matrices Tony. Don't get too confident.”

“Why did you even do it?” He ask but got no reply. T'Challa was in full Black Panther regal with his mask down.

Sam was at the kitchen counter with toast and orange juice. He enjoyed mornings like this when the mansion seemed alive. Jarvis had already shooed Tony away from the stove, taking over before the billionaire started a fire. He sent a message to Red Wing, wanting to know if he could come to the house so he could take a morning flight around the city. He was leaning on the counter and absorbing the voices around him.

“You know what?” Carol said as she came into the room. “ Sam you got a pretty big butt.”

The room stopped for a moment with all eyes on Sam.

“What?”

“Don't get me wrong; it's a nice ass.”

“Now that you mentioned it…” Clint walked around with his bowl of cereal to look at his ass closer. “It is nice. Ever try bouncing a quarter off it?”

“Guys..”

“It is pretty perky too. I'm jealous.” Jan admitted, flying up small to examine it herself.

“What are we looking at?” Steve said as he came in from his morning jog.

“Sam’s ass come see!” Clint called the Captain over but T'Challa had already had enough. He slipped from his seat and walked up to Sam's side. In seconds he retracting the face mask, turned Sam's head up at the right angle, and kissed him hard. Sam had half a mind to be embarrassed but T'Challa was sucking on his tongue and he couldn't find it in him to care.

The room was quiet, waiting for them to pull apart. Like the asshole he was, T'Challa broke the kiss but slide his hand to grab the ass he was in only hours ago.

“Have a good day kidege.” He whispered and he walked out of the kitchen after making eye contact with everyone in the room. Sam rolled his eyes at the cat who was so arrogantly “marking his territory” in front of the others.

“So that's a thing?” Tony said slowly.

“Yup.” Sam confirmed between bites of toast.

“That's..unexpectedly cute.” Carol decided.

“Thanks I guess.” The room went silent again.

“Can I start making cat and bird jokes?” Clint asked. “Or is it too soon?”

“Start it and I'll kill you.” T'Challa called from down the hall. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kidege means little bird in Swahili and it's perfect. Hii ni nzuri means I like that. Hope you guys liked it, it's 17 pages of smut.


End file.
